Unintentional Hello
by Arya3610
Summary: Cas and Meg are working in a coffeeshop that a certain customer frequents every morning. Castiel is very shy, and hasn't even told Mr. Grande-Americano-No-Sugar-No-Cream-Please-Just-Coffee his name, or asked for the man's. And then he accidentally introduces himself, in about the best way possible.


"You know, Clarence, he's not gonna bite." Meg smirked from her casual lean against the countertop, dangerously close to the new espresso maker. "Actually, if he does, send him my way, I'd love to— "

"Aannnd we're done." Castiel interrupted, furiously scrubbing down the glass top of the display case. He could feel his face burning. "Let's talk about something else. How old are these cake pops?" He was throwing out a weak line, he knew, but he was hoping it would hold. _Maybe she'll let it go this time,_ he thought desperately. He heard his imaginary rescue rope snapping as soon as Meg rolled her eyes.

"I'm just saying," she pushed off from the counter and strolled over to the case Castiel was polishing a new hole into, cocking a hip against the ledge. "It wouldn't hurt to say more than his total." She raised a single eyebrow at him. "Maybe your name?"

Castiel tossed the rag over to the drink-making counter before crouching to rearrange the cookies. They didn't need to be rearranged; not a lot of people bought cookies before 7:16 in the morning. Castiel just needed to be doing something with his hands to distract himself. _Not that it's working_ , he grumbled to himself. Aloud, he mumbled, "I wear a name tag."

Meg rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over the uniform green apron. "Where is your name tag right now?"

He stubbornly remained silent while pushing the scones just a hair to the left. _It's in the bottom of my backpack. No, it's not, it's on my desk at home. No, wait, it's…_

"Clarence?"

"I have one." He squinted angrily at the slice of carrot cake.

Meg patted his shoulder. "Sure you do." She turned back to the new espresso machine, turning it on and fiddling with some buttons. "Just introduce yourself. Flirt a little, give him your number." She threw another smirk over her shoulder. "Easy."

The bell above the door gave its automated ding, but they both ignored it. Customers usually interrupted them when they were ready to order, some more politely than others. It'd been weeks since they'd jumped to attention at the tone.

"Oh, sure," Castiel scoffed. He stood as he turned to her, leaning against the register. "That'll go so well. I'll just say, 'Hi, I'm Castiel. I'm too scared to give you my phone number, but I've wanted to since the first day you came in.' Which," he interrupted himself, giving Meg a black look, "Just sounds creepy." He crossed his arms and continued, "'I don't know your name but I have your order memorized, Mr. Grande-Americano-No-Sugar-No-Cream-Please-Just-Coffee.'" He glared at Meg again. "And if I haven't scared him off by that point, I'd say, 'I have four older brothers who will try to skin you alive, a mother that will talk your ear off, and I really like your eyes. Will you go on a date with me?'"

"Will they skin me before or after the date?"

Castiel's back went rigid, his hands froze, and his eyes went so wide he could feel them straining. _No, no nonono_. He desperately looked at Meg, face heating up to rival the coffee machines. _Please,_ he begged Meg with his eyes, _please tell me that is not Mr. Grande-Americano-No-Sugar-No-Cream-Please-Just-Coffee. Please tell me that is virtually_ anyone _else._

She looked like she was torn between embarrassment for her friend and delight that something was finally happening.

All in all, not a promising expression.

Castiel slowly turned his head, certain that his face was strawberry red, and locked eyes with Mr. Grande-Americano-No-Sugar-No-Cream-Please-Just-Coffee. Whose lips were twitching into a small grin on one side of his mouth, his hair was glowing in the morning sun, and his green eyes were sparkling.

 _How am I supposed to explain myself_ , Castiel thought hysterically, _while his eyes are freaking sparkling?_

"Um," Castiel turned fully around to face the man, glancing down at the counter and nervously fiddling with the Sharpie in his apron pocket. "I, uh…" _Damage control, damage control, come on._ He closed his eyes and gave himself a second to breathe before he peered carefully up at the customer. "How…" he began haltingly, "much of that… did you hear?"

"Oh, I don't know," the man sounded like he was teasing, voice as light as his blonde hair, still catching the sun magnificently. "I think, about, hmm… All of it?" his grin stretched to his entire face. "Yeah, actually, I think it was all of it."

Meg snorted to herself, but Castiel elected to ignore that for the moment. There were more pressing issues right now.

"Great." Castiel replied, his voice about two octaves higher than he meant for it to be. _At least he doesn't seem angry, right?_ "Great, um," he stared down at the register again and ran his hand through his hair. "Great."

"You didn't answer my question." The man pressed, voice still casual.

Castiel fought through his inner panic to remember what the question even was, but he couldn't really remember anything past the Cute-Customer-At-Work hearing his embarrassing spiel.

Mr. Americano took mercy on him, still smiling. _He has a wonderful smile. I hope he smiles like that all the time_ , Castiel drifted for a second before snapping back to reality at his words.

"Will your brothers skin me alive before or after the date?"

Castiel blinked a few times. _Wait… what?_ "Aa…fter?"

"Okay." The man smiled again. "Then, if you still want to go on that date, how about you write your number on my cup, and I'll text you later?" His eyes sparkled again. _How does he_ do _that?_

"Um…" Castiel felt his blush kick up again. "Yeah," He nearly whispered, looking down at the register. "I'd like that."

"Great," the man replied happily. "In that case, I'll have the usual." He winked.

Castiel shyly smiled at the man, punching in his Grande Americano, No Sugar, No Cream. He fiddled with his Sharpie again, glancing up and daring to ask, "Can I have a name for the order?"

The man laughed and handed over his cash. "It's Dean." He put the change he got back into the tip jar. "Nice to finally meet you, Castiel." He winked again before ambling to the pick-up counter.

Castiel smiled at the tip jar. _That was very nice of him, he didn't have to do that_. He turned and poured the man's – _Dean's_ – coffee, carefully slipping on the heat sleeve and lid. After clicking his Sharpie a few times, still incredibly nervous about it, he bent over and wrote on the cup.

After a few moments of writing, he called Dean's name and carefully handed over his just-coffee. He blushed heavily at what he had written, but he didn't regret doing it. _It's true, after all._

Dean smiled softly at the message, but seemed to get that Castiel was too shy to laugh at. "I have to go to work, but I'll text you later? We'll set up that date." He said softly.

"Yes," Castiel smiled down at the counter. "Please do."

"Alright. Talk to you later, Castiel." Dean smiled blindingly once more before turning and exiting the coffee shop.

Castiel smiled to himself as he turned around, only to come face-to-face with Meg.

"Well," she drawled, arms crossed. "That was interesting."

"Mmhhm." Castiel hummed in agreement, still too happy for her to get to him.

"What did you write on the cup there, Clarence?"

"My name…" he stalled, "my number…"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "And obviously something else?"

Castiel awkwardly ran his hand through his hair again. "I wrote that I really did like his eyes." He mumbled. "And I drew a small… a _very_ small heart."

"You dog! I knew you had it in ya!" She crowed, both congratulating and slightly teasing him.

"Yeah, well," He shrugged, face burning.

"Mhm." She shook her head. "You realize," she turned back to the machines, "If you guys end up being in this for the long haul, I can always say that I was the one that got you two lovebirds together?"

Castiel smiled again, thinking about being in it for the long haul with Dean. They didn't know much about each other yet, but he knew enough to make the man attractive. He was polite, even nice, to baristas, he gave them tip money, he always brushed it off with a laugh and a "no problem" when his order was wrong (it had been weird, at first, to get just regular coffee orders), and he was patient, for a few things. The small talk over the weeks had shown he was incredibly proud of his younger brother, loved his mother, and helped out his friends, too.

Whoever Dean ended up being, Castiel could feel in his heart that he would be okay with it. Even like whoever it was. Maybe, one day, love him.

He blushed slightly again at his own sappy thoughts before replying to Meg. "I'll deny it to my dying day."

She smirked at him. "I know you will, Clarence. I know you will."


End file.
